Page 39 of Destined Lovers

Maeve smiles brightly at Nora, remembering. “I-I am.”

Nora shakes her head like she can’t believe it and leans back in for another hug.

“Happy Christmas, Maeve. I’m so happy you’re here celebrating with us. I’ve missed you.”

Maeve starts to get teary-eyed, and she points to her tablet. It’s clearly a very emotional day for all of us.

I bring her whole chair over, and she shakes her head. “Sit. Here,” she says, smiling over at Nora.She wants to sit next to her.

Maeve was only eight when Nora left, but I guess she remembers her more than I thought.

I hold up her speech tablet so she can use it easily.

“Merry Christmas, Nora. I missed you too.” Her tablet announces after she presses the buttons.

Nora’s smile is wide, and she runs her hands through Maeve’s hair, pushing it off her face like she so often did for me.

Maeve had me add Nora and Agnes’s names to her tablet this morning, so she can easily converse today. It was sweet that she thought of them.

“Our dresses are matching,” Nora says to Maeve, and it’s then I realize Agnes is in the kitchen with a gown. Why are they so dressed up? I think as I look down at my clothes.

I’m wearing a white button-down and dress pants, not casual by any means, but these two look like they are going to attend the opera.

“I think we missed the memo on the dress code,” I look between Maeve and me.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s a silly tradition Agnes and I started.” She says and smiles up at me. Nora looks so much happier today. More like the Nora I once knew.

I continue to watch her and Maeve on the couch and begin to miss the time we spent apart. I’m trying my hardest not to dwell on it, except it’s hard when you aren’t getting answers and promised not to push for them.

Eisenstein once said, “Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.” This quote has repeatedly played through my head for the last twenty-four hours. Knowing I need answers, it’s driving me insane that I can’t question anything.Yet.

Maeve breaks me out of my thoughts when she calls my name.

“Aye, mo dheirfiúr?”

“Sh-ow art,” she says. What is she talking about? She must be able to tell I’m confused, so she points again to her tablet.

“Show Nora artwork.”

Feck, I hate when I don’t understand her the first time, and she is forced to use the computer. I know it’s there to help her, but I would rather not use a computerized device if we don’t need to. I should be able to decipher what my own sister says.

“Of course. Let me pull it up on my phone.” I sit next to Nora and show her my photo album on my phone.

“Maeve has been taking art classes, and her therapist has even started incorporating them into her sessions. I have most of her pieces at my place in London. She’s very talented,” I announce proudly.

I’m not just saying that because she’s my sister, sheistalented and even more since she lacks fine motor skills. All the more impressive how remarkable these abstract pieces are.

“Oh my god, Maeve. These are amazing! Are you using acrylics?” Nora asks, genuinely impressed.

She nods her head. “A-cr-lics,” Maeve tells her, and the fact she is trying to talk and not use her device means so much. She only ever does that with family and close friends.

Nora continues swiping through the many pictures of her work I have on my phone, but then, out of nowhere, I feel her stiffen next to me and quickly try to hide her reaction.

What the hell was that?

She hands back my phone, not making eye contact, and swiftly turns back toward Maeve.

“You’re very talented, Maeve. I would love to paint with you one day if you’d like?” Maeve’s eyes light up like New Year’s Eve fireworks. This is what Maeve needs in her life, more interactions with people she’s comfortable around. She’s stuck by herself and her nurse half the time at my parent’s house or continuously going back and forth to therapy. She wants more out of her life. So, I hope my surprise to her after dinner will change it all for her.

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